Part 11 (1/2)

IX--To W. R.

Madam Life's a piece in bloom Death goes d.o.g.g.i.ng everywhere: She's the tenant of the room, He's the ruffian on the stair.

You shall see her as a friend, You shall bilk him once and twice; But he'll trap you in the end, And he'll stick you for her price.

With his kneebones at your chest, And his knuckles in your throat, You would reason--plead--protest!

Clutching at her petticoat;

But she's heard it all before, Well she knows you've had your fun, Gingerly she gains the door, And your little job is done.

1877

X

The sea is full of wandering foam, The sky of driving cloud; My restless thoughts among them roam . . .

The night is dark and loud.

Where are the hours that came to me So beautiful and bright?

A wild wind shakes the wilder sea . . .

O, dark and loud's the night!

1876

XI--To W. R.

Thick is the darkness - Sunward, O, sunward!

Rough is the highway - Onward, still onward!

Dawn harbours surely East of the shadows.

Facing us somewhere Spread the sweet meadows.

Upward and forward!

Time will restore us: Light is above us, Rest is before us.

1876